Friday, February 28, 2014

I went to the same
hairdresser in the US for decades and I’ve been going to the same woman for the
whole 12 years I’ve been here in Sri Lanka

Okay, so I might
have dabbled with 2 other hairdressers, just for a change, but I’ve gone
running back to Asoka Tillakaratne at 7th Avenue Salon like my feet were
on fire!

I can’t remember
how I found her, situated in an old house (now demolished) on Galle Road, back
in 2002. Living down south in Weligama, there wasn’t anyone to choose from except the local barbers who thought mullets were the ‘in’ thing, so I headed
north every 4-6weeks. A 5-hour drive.

I was such a
bumpkin back then. My typical garb in Weligama was a colorful T-shirt and sarong,
which was fine in Weligama, but Colombo was a bit more sophisticated. Not being
one for too much sophistication when it’s 32C (90F) out, I didn’t care that people
in Colombo wore saris and fashionable sun dresses. I have always been one for
comfort and there’s nothing more comfortable than a sarong!

Asoka has always
been on the cutting edge, but when I told her I wanted my hair tri-colored
(white blonde, yellow blonde and brown) in wide swatches, she whined, ‘I can’t do
that!’

‘Oh, sure you can,’
I said. ‘Just try it and see how it turns out.’ We had a good laugh over the
possible crazy outcomes, but I was sure she could do it. After all she’d been
giving me a good haircut for several months and had earned my trust.

When Asoka stripped
the foils from my hair, washed and combed it, I looked like a tri-color zebra.
Exactly what I wanted! She had done it! Each color was the perfect shade.

When she moved to a
larger place in the Galle Face Hotel, I followed her. And now that she’s moved
to her new 4,000 sq. foot salon – fancy, fancy! – on Greenlands Lane, off
Isipathana Mawatha, I followed her there.

I’ve since let my
hair grow to its natural silver so there’s no more sitting for hours making it
blonde and her haircuts are still great after all these fashion
changes in my life (from sarongs to jeans).

Asoka even did a
full make-up job on me for a fancy party, and ever better - a total makeover
for my Halloween birthday! Scared us both when she was done!

Thursday, February 27, 2014

There are several
bakeries near my house. One within walking distance so yesterday I ventured to
walk there and get paan (bread) for
breakfast.

I was a bit
hesitant to walk by the school adjacent to our lane as the little fellows who
go there once shouted, ‘Blah blah blah Grannie!’ at me last time I walked by. Grannie! Not even
Auntie! I shook my finger at them at said, ‘I’m not your Grannie!’ It appears I
was great entertainment for them. Next time I should arm myself with a water
pistol and get the little buggars!

It’s typical for
people here to address an older person by calling them Auntie, or Uncle. Most
people don’t mind it, but I did hear one Sri Lankan man shout at a fellow who
had called him Uncle, saying ‘I’m not your Uncle!’ It still takes me aback when
someone addresses me as Auntie. I’m not sure what we’d say in the US, but
probably, ‘Excuse me, Sir. Excuse me, Ma’am. ‘ Or just plain, Excuse me.’

As for catcalling
youngsters, I’d rather hear, ‘Hey you old bat!’ than Grannie!

At the corner of
the main road, there’s a hub for three-wheeled taxis; tuk tuks. The drivers sit
around playing cards until they get a hire, or simply chatting. They apparently
all know where I live as I’m the only foreigner in the neighborhood. I took the
old man’s tuk tuk once into Colombo. It’s not the best tuk tuk of the lot;
its passenger seat is about as thin as a piece of bread and there are no
shocks to soften the bounce over potholes and speed bumps. I asked him to go
slow, hemin, and he did. I could have
walked to Colombo faster!

I discovered a
tailor on the main road, sewing away on his old-fashioned machine. It’s amazing
what you see on foot that you completely miss when you’re in a car. Now I know
where I can get the cushion cover zippers fixed that have been broken for
the last two years!

The bakery usually
runs out of bread mid-morning and I got there just in time for one of the last
two loaves. Kade paan (shop bread)
is just the best bread ever. Not PC 9-grain brown bread
made with no flour, but just plain yummy homemade white bread! Lipton will eat
½ a loaf with dahl (a mixture of
lentils, onions, curry leaves, hot green chilies, spices and coconut milk),
I’ll have one slice with the dalh, if it’s not too spicy. Otherwise it's bread and peanut butter for me.

When I first came
to Sri Lanka, I made a stop in Kuala Lumpur. For breakfast the hotel had a
buffet. I took what looked familiar and a bit that didn’t. My first bite made
me gag! My mouth was on fire. My lips were on fire! People in my group poured
water for me, told me to eat sugar. I dumped a spoonful of sugar into my
burning mouth. Nothing worked. Only time. But I was wrecked for the day, I
couldn’t eat anything. Apparently I had chowed down a spoon full of hot green
chilies. After that, anything remotely spicy makes my skin crawl. Sri Lankans
like their food spicy, that’s for sure! When we photograph weddings, we are
provided dinner, but I usually end up eating just a bit of rice as the rest of
the foods are off limits for me!

Too bad because Sri Lankan food is yummy - if it just weren’t so spicy!

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

I didn’t know what
to wear to a wedding in a small village. I wore a tight silk dress one time and almost passed
out from heat stroke, as there was no AC in the small village house. There was
one fan, though, and the mother of the bride let me lie down on her bed with
the fan directed right on me. I did feel sorry for the others in the front room
where the wedding was being held, but not enough to avoid the imminent faint.

Going to another
wedding at the same house, I didn’t know what to wear besides shorts and a
T-shirt to keep cool. That being inappropriate, I asked my fashion-designer
friend, Mano Caderamapulle, for her advice. She suggested I wear a sari. I
laughed! She said, ‘I’m serious, it’s the perfect thing for a foreigner to wear
to a wedding.’

I’ve always thought
that unless a foreigner was stick thin, a sari would make them (me!) look like
a cow!

Mano insured that
my fleshy parts would be covered with the under blouse. I just had to find one.
After looking all over Colombo to find something I liked, I decided on wearing
my favorite wife-beater T-shirt – it even matched. And hid all that needed to
be hidden.

Wedding Day came,
and I went to Mano’s for her dresser to dress me. Mano had kindly offered one of her
gazillion saris for me to wear. The problem was, the sari fit her and she’s half
the size of me. Now a sari is long piece of material, six to nine yards in
length, elegantly wrapped around the body. Mano’s sari must have been six yards
as it did the one-size-fits-all – it made it around my body - but there was
nothing left to drape over my left arm in typical fashion.

Her dresser wrapped
and rewrapped but there was no way I was getting a drape. So she pinned and
pinned and pinned safety pins everywhere needed and I was finished. Ready to
party! Well, ready for the wedding. There would be no partying in my getup!

With each step I
took, I feared the worst – that the whole wrap would fall down and I’d be
standing there in my knickers and wife-beater T-shirt! I took tiny steps the
whole day long, careful not to step on the yards of gorgeous silk.

Instead of making
me look like a cow, the sari actually made me feel slimmer. I loved it! And all
these years I’ve been avoiding wearing one. I'd even given away a gorgeous one
that I had gotten in India. Sigh.

Compliments abound.
The bride’s family was ecstatic that I wore a traditional sari. They felt honored. Many people
bobbed their heads and pointing to me said,’Lasanai,’
(beautiful). I felt like a star. A Bollywood star!

I finished the day completely intact and just had to find and figure out how to undo all those safety pins. I
laughed, thinking just how frustrated brides must feel on their wedding night,
with their grooms impatiently waiting for them, to find and undo the multitude of safety pins that
held them together!